Face stiff with tension, she glanced at Blays, then Minn. Seeing the other woman, Raxa made a face of sheer disgust. "Should have known."
Minn looked puzzled, then her jaw dropped. "Saya?"
"Saya?" Blays tipped back his face as if to beseech the heavens. "Don't tell me we have the wrong person again."
"We got the burglar who can walk through walls," Dante said. "If she isn't the right shadowalking rogue sorcerer, we're in more trouble than I thought."
"How do you two know each other, Minn?" Blays' eyebrows hopped upward. "Because she was at Pocket Cove. Where she learned to shadowalk."
"That is correct." There was no missing the edge in Minn's voice. "She was young then, and seems to have used a different name. But there's no forgetting that look in her eyes."
"The one where the caged tiger is imagining eating you bit by bit?"
"If I remember right, she always struggled with the nether. Was that why you ran away, Saya—Raxa? Because you were ashamed of your weakness?"
Raxa sneered. "You're right, I should have stayed. Until your people got me drowned. Or you tortured me until I went mad and flung myself down from the Fingers."
"We have to toughen ourselves. If we don't, Gask will destroy us. Who are you to complain? No one is taken to Pocket Cove against their will."
"And no one would go there if they knew what it's like." Giving Dante a baleful glance, Raxa propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at Minn. "Which makes it a problem when you're never allowed to leave. Except, apparently, for you."
"That's different. My presence here helps keep Pocket Cove safe." Minn's face darkened. "I don't need to justify myself to you."
Raxa stared at her long enough to unload another ton of contempt, then shifted her gaze to Dante. "You have a problem. You can't kill me. Do that, and you'll never see your book and your sword again."
"Don't be so sure. I have powers you can't dream of."
"Sure you do, priesty boy. That's why you're freezing your ass off arguing with me out in the darkest woods."
He didn't know whether to sigh or to stab her. "What do you want?"
"Told you. You give me Cee, and I'll give you the book. The real one."
"What would you do with her? Kill her?"
"You don't have to worry about that."
"I'll take that as a yes."
"I'll even throw in your fancy sword. It's a fair trade. More than fair." Raxa glanced across the ruins toward Cee, who stood alone, bow in hand. "She can be replaced. A year from now, you won't even miss her. But if you've got your weapons back, think how much better you'll be able to protect the realm. That sword's already saved my life more than once. And as for the book—where do you think I learned to do this?"
She summoned a droplet of nether to her index finger. Dante tensed, preparing to beat it back with everything he had, but she blew on her finger, dispersing the shadows back to the dark places of the world.
Dante glanced at Cee. She was upwind of them and he wasn't sure she could hear their conversation; if she could, she gave no sign of it.
"No deal," Dante said.
"Come on. There's no way her life is worth as much as your artifacts."
"Probably not," he said. "But loyalty to your people is worth more than a mountain of gold. It's the glue that holds everything together. If I give that up, I'll lose the very thing I'm trying to protect."
She sighed, shoulders slumping. "Kill me, then. But spare the Order. We didn't start this war—you did."
Dante clenched his teeth. Even if he did have the stomach for torturing it out of her, if he tried, Blays would walk right out of Narashtovik. Threatening her children would likewise cause Blays to disown him; besides, if he did that, Raxa seemed like the type to throw herself at him in a mad frenzy, forcing him to kill her on the spot.
If he killed her and took some of her blood, he might be able to use it to trace it to other places she'd left bits of herself, stray hairs and so forth. But it wasn't at all likely. The connection would be so faint he'd probably have to be right on top of her stash before he felt anything.
He could send moths and beetles into the far corners of the city. But that could take years, and he'd have to be watching through their eyes all the while.
There were no good answers. But they'd figure something out. They always did. Pursing his lips, he moved into the nether that still hovered above her, preparing to send it swooping down.
"Wait." Minn held out her hand. "This is wrong. Those of the Cove don't kill each other. It's our most sacred vow."
"Good news," Dante said. "I'm not from the Cove."
"Does slaying her get your book back? Your sword? What does this solve?"
"It gets the city's most dangerous criminal off of our streets. Maybe things are easier in Pocket Cove, where the most trying decision you have to make is whether to eat the flounder or the perch, but in the rest of the world, you rarely get a perfect solution. Most of the time, the best you can do is go with the option that makes you vomit the least."
"She was one of my sisters. Even though she ran from us, that remains." She turned to Blays, making a sweeping upwards gesture. "He listens to you. Convince him."
Blays snorted. "He listens to me like a rock rolls uphill."
Raxa glared up at them. "Will you hurry up and kill me before I freeze to death?"
"There has to be something more valuable to you than murdering that woman over there." Blays tapped the point of his sword into the snow. "This was about those kids of yours, wasn't it? Bunch of orphans or whatever? Give us back our stuff, and the Citadel will take care of them."
"I take care of them myself."
"Then it's a good thing you've never done anything to endanger your life and hence your ability to keep caring for them. Who are they, anyway? Cousins?"
Raxa shrugged. "Just some kids off the street. The kind you see every day."
"Ah. Well, you missed a few. What about them?"
"Are you offering to house the others?"
Dante swung toward Blays. "Are we? With whose money?"
"The taxpayers, I suppose. I'm sure they won't mind throwing a few hundred silver at a project that'll result in the return of certain objects vital to the city's defense."
"We can't possibly house every vagabond child in the city."
"I know, it's an awful idea." Blays looked down at Raxa. "How many would it take?"
She frowned. "Do you mind if I stand up? It's hard to negotiate when your ass is getting soaked."
"The philosopher Kamrates said the same thing." Blays took a step back.
Raxa stood, knocking the snow from her trousers. "An orphanage is a good start. But you're going to have to do better than that. The sword alone is worth a kingdom."
Dante bit his teeth tight. "And how much is your life worth?"
"My life? I gave up on that the moment I set up this meet."
"Minn must have hit you harder than I thought. You seem to be forgetting the vital fact you're not selling me goods that you own. You stole them. From me."
"They're not yours until they're in your hands, are they?"
Her eyes widened. She reached for the nether. Dante grabbed for it, only to find that it was already surrounding him—that was why she'd drawn on it. If she decided to lash out with it, they were standing so close to each other he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop her.
"Enough!" Blays glared daggers at Dante, then turned them on Raxa. "You think some stupid sword is power? This man can annihilate you down to the burnt ends of your hair, steal a piece of your soul and turn it into a demon, then send that demon to devour everyone you've ever loved. And after that, he can travel into the afterlife to hunt you down and tell you all about it.
"With power like that, I'm sure it must be very tempting to abuse it. Gods know everyone else seems to. But we try to use it to make the world just a slightly less horrible place. You're currently delaying us from achieving that. For the good of the land, we ought
to smear you and get on with our business."
Blays' face was red with cold and rage. He took a step closer to Raxa, eyes sparking like the clash of two steel blades. "You've done some bad things, haven't you? Enough to know how it gnaws at your soul. Maybe you've done so much harm that a part of you wishes we would kill you. I don't want to do that. I have to protect my soul wherever I can. It's already thin enough as it is. But maybe it's thin enough that I won't care about gutting you.
"We can find out. Or we can make a deal. You give back what you stole. We build you an orphanage. And the freakishly talented sorcerer over there trains you to wield real power."
Dante choked. "You want me to train her?"
"It's stupid to throw away a good tool. Besides, she's a thief and probably a murderer. We can't have her just running around the city, can we?"
"Much better idea to teach her to use the nether!"
Blays folded his arms. "She's a shadowalker. Apparently she's already on her way to becoming a nethermancer. You couldn't ask for a more perfect spy to install in Bressel."
It was Raxa's turn to gawk. "Spy? Bressel? I can't leave my people behind. I don't even speak Mallish!"
"Then you'd better start brushing up. You want to protect your merry band of criminals? Your urchins? Here's your chance to learn from one of the most terrifying people this side of the Woduns."
They all fell silent for a moment. Dante adjusted the clasp of his cloak. "Did you really learn to use the nether by reading the Cycle?"
"At Pocket Cove, I was never any good," Raxa said. "But once I had the book, it seemed to open something up inside me."
"That's how I learned, too. That, and a completely crazy old man."
"You're talking about Callimandicus?"
Dante nodded. "There wasn't another like him. That was the worst loss of the war."
Raxa had a distant look in her eye, as if remembering something from her youth, or listening to a story around a campfire. As fast as someone falling down, she regained her pointed gaze. "How do I know I can trust you? That as soon as you've got your things back, you won't blast me apart and feed me to demons?"
"That idea has occurred to me. But we need someone in Bressel. Other than Blays, you're the only shadowalker I've ever met outside Pocket Cove."
"And you know how those people are," Blays said. "The last time we were able to talk them into helping us, it required calling in a thousand-year-old debt."
Something moved across the stark field of Raxa's face. "What could I become?"
"I can't even guess," Dante said. "Part depends on talent. More depends on the work you put into that talent. And some depends on fate, or luck, or the will of the gods. All you can do is try, every day, and see how far it takes you."
"I need time to decide. Three days."
"Three days? Do you really need that long to scheme up a way to murder us in our beds?"
Raxa snorted. "You might be able to run off whenever you please, but I have people who depend on me. I have to make sure they're okay with me leaving them for a while."
"And if they're not, you'd give up your chance at this?"
"Dead truth is that I don't know. But I know I have to ask."
"Three days," Dante said. "I'll see you here."
She nodded to each of them, then took a last look at Cee, who remained apart, a picture of stoicism. Raxa departed so quietly Dante would have sworn she was shadowalking.
"Well," Blays said. "Did we just do something incredibly stupid?"
Dante tugged up his hood. "That depends. What exactly did we commit to?"
"'We'? Tragically, I can barely touch the nether. Minn's my witness to that. Teaching the wild helltiger to do magic is all your job."
"Thank you for volunteering me, by the way. I was just wondering how I could add yet another responsibility to my load."
"Think of it as training someone to make your life easier." Blays motioned for Cee to join them. "Moving along, if Raxa's going to infiltrate Bressel, she's going to need a partner. Ideally, someone who can do things like 'speak to the locals in their own language.'"
"I've already got someone in mind for that." Dante smiled. "And I think he'll like this even less than I do."
~
Sorrowen slouched into his offices with his shoulders hunched and his elbows tucked tight to his sides, as if he might be able to escape notice if only he could make himself small enough. Aware that he was being cruel, if only in a small way, Dante watched him enter in silence, allowing him to continue to wonder what this was about.
"Please." Dante motioned to a chair. "Sit."
Sorrowen followed orders, awkwardly scooting the heavy chair across the rug to pull himself closer to the table. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question, then thought better.
Dante gave him a level look. "I need you to do something you might have thought you'd never do again: return to Mallon. There, you'll infiltrate the Bresselian priesthood and attempt to locate a man named Gladdic."
Sorrowen's head gave an involuntary jerk. "Wait. Wait. You want…what?"
Dante repeated himself. "You'll have a partner with you. While you may need to coordinate at some points, I expect she'll be working separately."
"Er." The boy swallowed, pinched his eyebrows together, and looked steadfastly at the table. "Why me? Sir?"
"Because you're the right fit for the task."
"But I can't do a thing like that!"
"No," Dante said, "you're not used to doing a thing like that. But you made it here, from Mallon, by yourself. Just a couple of weeks ago, your quick thinking and ability to act in the moment saved Cee's life. You have the potential to be of great value. All you need is the opportunity to grow into the role. If I sound confident, that's because I was once in the exact same position you are now."
The boy scrunched his mouth to the side. "You don't think I'm too young?"
"Your youth is an asset. They're less likely to suspect you than someone older."
"How long will I be gone? Won't I fall behind in my studies?"
"Unless you plan to start a secret nethermancy school inside a Mallish temple, probably so. But I'll be traveling with you until you reach Mallon. Along the way, I'll train you personally."
"Uh," Sorrowen said. "That is to say, you will?"
"It's a long journey. We'll need something to pass the time."
"Then I accept. Or I would, anyway, if not for the problem of other things that happened. Sir, I left the priesthood without permission. I'll never be allowed back inside."
"You let me worry about that," Dante said. "You have a month to get ready. If I have the time, I'll try to start your lessons before we leave."
Sorrowen stood, bowed, and practically ran from the chamber, as if wanting to flee the scene before Dante could change his mind.
With that out of the way, Dante sent for Olivander, Nak, and Blays. They took seats around the table, which was large enough for a dozen. Dante proceeded to lay out his plan to send Raxa and Sorrowen to infiltrate Bressel. Dante thought the idea and its execution were rather cunning, but as he finished, Olivander looked like Dante had suggested they dig a secret tunnel into Mallon using their teeth as shovels.
"Do you really think this is necessary?" Olivander said.
Dante leaned back in his chair. "We have to find Gladdic. If we hadn't intervened, he would have killed everyone in the Collen Basin."
"Are you trying to provoke war with Mallon?"
"Just because I'm always getting into them doesn't mean I like wars. Usually, I'm trying to avert them. But the universe has a bad habit of not listening to me."
"I see," Olivander said. "And you believe the best candidates for this job are a young boy and a woman who, until last night, was trying to kill you?"
"If they're caught, we can plausibly disavow both of them. One's a known criminal with a vendetta against us who thought she could go to Bressel to stir up trouble against us. The other's a Mallish boy who was sickened by what he w
as supposed to learn in Narashtovik and went running back to his homeland."
"Will you bring them back once Gladdic's been dealt with? Or will they be more permanent assets?"
"I hadn't thought of it. I suppose if they're still finding useful information, it would be foolish to bring them home too fast."
Olivander crossed his arms over his chest. "In other words, they'll be there until the end of time."
"Strange. You sound like you think you're saying the same thing I said, and yet every word is completely different."
"There was once a military philosopher named Andaral who said that until you sheathe your sword, you'll never stop cutting things with it. If you create an institution without defined boundaries, it will continue of its own accord, because you'll always find a new way to put it to use. Before committing people to the field, I strongly suggest we define our objectives."
"They're twofold. First, to locate and eliminate Gladdic. And second, to figure out whether Mallon has any immediate plans to do us harm. Once we've got those questions answered, we'll withdraw the spies."
"Very good. Nak, are you writing this down?"
Dante frowned. "Why would we want to put this in writing?"
"To hold ourselves accountable. You of all people should understand the power of ink."
"What if somebody steals the documents?"
"Like who?" Blays put in. "The unstoppable thief you just hired?"
"Bringing her aboard was your idea!" Dante said. "Besides, she's the perfect example of why we wouldn't want to leave proof lying around. We don't know what our enemies are capable of. The more I travel the world, the more I learn how little we know about what's lurking in it."
Nak pursed his lips, quill hovering over his parchment. "Am I supposed to write this damned stuff down or not?"
Olivander raised an eyebrow. Dante made a brushing gesture. "Oh, go ahead. Better make it short, though, because I'm making you carry it everywhere you go until I get back."
Nak's quill scratched over the page.
"If I'm through being interrogated," Dante said, "there's the matter of getting Sorrowen accepted into the Mallish priesthood. The problem is, he's already left it. Without leave. They'll refuse to let him back in."
The Cycle of Galand Box Set Page 111
